Willow the Wisp: Origins
by Mattycollns13
Summary: Sequel to Shield: Origins. Jeff needed a fix or else the dreams would consume him again. Maybe searching in an abandoned warehouse wasn't the safest of options but he'd try anything to stop what comes when his mind is sober. TW for Violence and mild gore as well as drug use.


Jeff shivered and pulled his coat, one he'd stolen, tighter around himself. It was barely into the winter months and yet he was shivering as if it was below zero. He knew the reason for his body's reaction; he hadn't had a fix in a while. He could tell by the shudders and the way the voices were beginning to whisper in the back of his head. Horrible memories had begun to spring up again from a dark night almost a year ago. "Obsolete. Delete. Brother Nero!" He tucked his head down further, feeling his grimy hair fall to frame his face. The quicker he got back to his dealer the quicker he could get rid of the voices.

He turned the corner and saw Shane hanging out where he usually did. They called him Hurricane because of how high he could get you and how fast. Jeff appreciated this. His product was the only thing keeping Jeff sane. He stumbled up to him not even looking him in the eye. "Shane… I need more."

"Course you do, Jeffy boy. But, you still owe me from last time. I can't let you off the hook twice in a row." Shane didn't sound sorry at all. He seemed gleeful that another pitiful junky had come around looking for another fix and he held all the power.

Jeff cursed inwardly. "You know I'll be good for it. Please…" He knew he sounded pitiful and pathetic, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The memories were worse than any damage he could do to his own dignity, or body.

He felt a hand shove him roughly into the wall. He crumpled like a paper bag, his bones hitting the hard brick, due to his lack of food for the last several days. "Sorry Jeff, you gotta pay to play. I'll give you an extra week to pay for the last stash, but that's all." Shane didn't seem to be taking glee from Jeff's situation anymore; he was completely and utterly serious in his threat. "Now run along before you get hurt."

Jeff groaned as the pain of withdrawal hit his frail frame. He walked past Shane and down random allies, his mind whirling with what to do. He had to get rid of the memories. It was the only way he could sleep without nightmares and he didn't want to think more about his brother or his family than he had to. It had almost been a full year, and Jeff could count on one hand the amount of times he'd been sober through the night. Whether it was drugs or drink, Jeff needed them to function everyday, and the fact that he had no money or a place to live was making it tougher to do so as well as not get caught.

He blearily looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He'd never been to this side of town before. He saw a warehouse, the chain broken off, and if he was going to pass out, which it was feeling more and more likely he'd do, he would like to do it in a place where the walls would break the wind-chill and give him a chance of not freezing to death. He pushed the door to the side, slipped in before closing it back again. He waited for his eyes to adjust before taking in the room.

It looked like a meth lab. There were test tubes set up full of different liquids and bubbling beakers. Jeff looked around to find the place empty. He couldn't believe his luck. He could get rid of the memories and the voices and he'd be gone before whomever came back caught him taking a free sample. He knew objectively that this was stupid, but he was desperate and all the risk, well, maybe he deserved it if it killed him.

He staggered over to the bench and looked around, unsure where the finished product was. His eyes caught sight of a needle and plunger that was full of milky white liquid. He grabbed for it and pulled the tie that was next to it tight on his arm. He didn't care. He could hear his brother's cackle already louder in the back of his mind and sought any relief from the memories that he could and plunged the needle deep in his arm and pressed the plunger until there wasn't a drop of liquid left in it.

Jeff's consciousness lasted all of ten seconds before his vision went white and he was sucked into the very memories he was trying to avoid.

He lived through it just like that night when he woke up to muffled banging outside. He frowned and stood up, what could that be? It probably could just be an animal that wandered in somewhere from around the compound. His father, his brother, and he all owned this patch of land and had built houses all across from one another. Maybe Matt was still out and burning firewood or doing something he shouldn't have been doing. He'd been acting weird lately, and maybe he had taken to sleeping in the day too and was simply getting his chores done at night.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed his bedroom door open. He lived here all by himself; his brother lived next door with his wife Reby and his son Maxel. His dad lived a little further away, but the back of his house could be seen if one looked hard enough from either his or Matt's porch. The banging sounds seemed to get louder, along with the coming of a new sound. Was that whimpering? He picked up the pace a little, bounding down the stairs and unlocking his front door. He looked over at Matt's house to see all the lights still off, but a fire in the fire pit. He closed the door behind him and inched along his porch to get another view. He couldn't make out anything but shapes, but he saw the form he knew to be his brother walk between him in the fire carrying a shovel. That was odd.

Jeff slipped some sandals on, heading over to talk with his brother. Matt had been strange ever since he went to a garage sale down the road and found this old book. It had no title on it, simply a lock that was rusted shut. Matt had wanted it to place as a decorative item on his table, but the last time Jeff had been over, Matt's eyes barely ever strayed off of it. Jeff didn't know what the deal was, but he'd hoping Matt would get over it before Reby noticed something was off.

He had reached the bonfire, but saw no sign of Matt. He looked around, the fire obscuring his night vision, only to watch everything go black when a metallic clang hit him in the back of the head. Jeff couldn't have been out for more than a few minutes, but when awoke his hands were tied behind his back and he could barely move. He groaned and tried to sit up, his vision clearing only for him to wish he'd stayed unconscious.

Reby lay there, bloody and motionless, as she cradled an equally motionless Maxel. It took everything Jeff had not to vomit at the sight of his dead sister-in-law and nephew, but he looked around the room, to find something he could use to get out of these binds and get help. However, on scanning the rest of the room, he only found a single lamplight on with Matt hunched over it, reading that damn book. "Matt? What are you doing? Get help!"

"Brother Nero, I knew you'd come." Brother Nero? What the hell?

"What's my middle name got to do with this? Get help!"

Matt finally turned around, and Jeff almost didn't recognize him. He had dyed his hair with a white streak in it and was giving him a look that Jeff had never seen on his brother before. "Get help? Yes you will need my help! You've become an obsolete mule and the seven deities need you to be purified before they can receive you as they have me!" He threw his arms out wide, while looking up. He stood there for a long minute, rigid as a board before he stumbled and turned back to Jeff with a wild look. "And now they have blessed me with a premonition! You must be tested or DELETED!"

He stepped forward and grabbed Jeff by the hair and pulled. Jeff didn't have a lot of options but to be dragged back outside before the fire. He looked up to see his brother go back in and retrieve the book and laying it down by Jeff before fleeing into the darkness. Jeff pushed himself up, trying to think of a way out of this. Maybe if he burned the book he could break whatever spell it had Matt under. He crawled towards it and though his hands were bound he tried to grab it. He was able to make it halfway back to the fire before it fell. He cursed and went to grab it again, only this time noticing it was open. He peered at it, the inside cover had the title of it. The rest seemed to be in a language that Jeff couldn't understand but the first part was in English.

"The Teachings of The Prince. Written down by "Hangman". Readers Beware."

Jeff didn't know what any of that meant, but now he needed to burn this book and release Matt. He grabbed it and with all of the strength left in him, threw it onto the bonfire. He watched with wide eyes as the book lay there and instead of burning, seemed to shield itself with a black energy. The smoke turned from grey to black and before Jeff could think on this too much, a body hit the dirt not far from him. He looked over and came face to face with his father. The old man groaned and tried to push himself up, but a foot to the back stopped him from being able to. Matt took the shovel from his shoulder and placed it at their father's neck.

"Matt! Please don't! This isn't you!"

"I am Broken, Brother Nero. You cannot see the brilliance yet, but you will." He brought his other foot down, and Jeff felt warm liquid splatter on his face. He sobbed out; not letting his eyes open to see what state their father was in. He picked his head up and looked at Matt whom was grinning madly. "The test has been completed!"

Jeff growled and lunged for his brother. Despite his bindings, his brother was expecting resistance from him. He tackled him to the ground, trying to head-butt him, but his tied hands proved to be his downfall. He was quickly overpowered and Matt stood above him with his foot on his chest, the shovel raised. "You have no place in their world! The Seven Deities will pass judgment through the magic of their Prince! The children of the Prince shall destroy this world and bring about the end! You are not Broken! You will never be able to withstand them as I will!"

Jeff tried one last thing. While his brother was issuing some premonition that didn't make any sense to Jeff, he was able to draw his knees up slightly and when his brother looked back down to him from the sky, he was met with both sandals to the face. It through him back on top of the fire, as Jeff pushed himself up. He watched as Matt sat there, not seeming to register that the flames had already started to claim him. He reached out, grabbed the book that still sat there among the coals and clutched it to his chest, laughing the entire time.

As the scene of his dream faded to black, Jeff felt some of his consciousness stirring. He didn't know where he was. It seemed like the woods like back on his old property, the only thing out of place was a run down cabin. Jeff could feel something was different. This was no dream. His body felt like it was being pulled towards the cabin, and yet, he felt as if someone was touching him, jabbing him in the ribs, his back being pressed against a wall.

He decided to follow his body's yearning and took steps towards the cabin. And as he walked, he did not stumble. He did not feel weak or going through withdrawal. He felt good actually. Powerful. And that feeling grew as he stepped closer and closer to the cabin. He saw a flash of movement in one of the windows and paused. Someone was here.

Jeff pushed all these thought away as he arrived at the doorway. He pushed into it and saw the inside was just as dilapidated as the outside. A bed, no mattress on it and the springs rusted and decayed lay there. End tables and lamps lay decimated on the floor as if the whole place had been shred to pieces and flipped over.

He stood in the middle and heard a rustling. A small breaking of glass, as if someone stepped on an empty beer bottle. He slowly turned and was met with… something. It wore a mask of black and white, in the crude shape of a W. It's eyes were white, but for the pupil in the middle, and the little of it's face that was visible near the mouth was painted black and white as well. It wore a trench coat, boots, and even white gloves. The last piece of the ensemble was the black and white umbrella it held against its shoulder. It stared at Jeff, unmoving; it didn't even look like it was breathing. It wasn't until it tilted its head to the side that Jeff noticed the hair had been braided tightly and spilled out from the back and top of the mask.

Jeff made sure to stand as still as whatever creature he was now facing, hoping not to initiate a fight with it. It made the first move, however, and stepped forward towards him. It then through its head back and cackled, loud enough for it to echo through the woods outside. When it had finished and met his gaze again he saw in its eyes moving pictures like he was watching a movie. The creature was fighting a leather jacket wearing man, whose bangs covered most of his face. He watched as the creature through the man into a wall, hard enough to dent it before teleporting and reappearing next to him to continue a vicious assault of wild punches on the man. The man seemed to take it all in stride and fought back, seemingly unaffected by the power of the creature.

"We love; we hate; we die, forever late. In Willow's Way!" It let out another cackles before Jeff felt his arm reach out and grab it's shoulder. Jeff watched as his arm suddenly began to sink in to the creature's body. He panicked and tried to pull away, but it was like he was stuck in quicksand. He started punching it with no further avail and soon he was up to his shoulder. He let his head dip down and squeezed his eyes shut. Surviving all he did, seeing his family fall apart, all to die here by this creature because he wasn't strong enough. He had failed everyone who had died that night at the compound. He had done nothing with his life after it. He'd let it all fall apart because of his weakness. He had wanted so badly to forget what had happened that he looked for no other solution. He fell into a hole of self-pity and loathing and didn't even let himself hope for more. He didn't fight.

When he looked back up into the creature's face, looked back into its eyes, he saw the man get beat down again by the creature. But he pushed himself up; looking exhausted, but grinned and gave the creature taunting gesture, before flying back into a wall again. Whoever this person was, he was fighting with everything he had to defeat this creature. If he could, then Jeff would do anything he could to help. Finally do something with his life and make those he had lost proud.

He growled at the creature, who seemed taken aback by his new vigor as he struggled out of its grip. He felt, with hope rising in his chest, his arm move slightly. He started pulling, like a rabid dog on a leash to get his arm unstuck. It budged more and Jeff felt with each inch he gained, his fight grew fiercer. Finally he launched himself back away from the creature who let out another cackles, those this seemed to be one of pain more than giddiness. Jeff stepped forward, finding himself in front of the monster as if he had teleported himself and launched a hard fist into its jaw. It looked at him stunned, tilting his head once before falling backwards. Before it hit the ground, it disappeared, and a moment later, so did the cabin. Jeff saw darkness once again.

Jeff's eyes snapped open. He looked around, not recognizing the alley he was in. His body hurt. He coughed and sat up. He looked down on himself and noticed several things at once. Number one, this wasn't his winter coat. He was in a long black trench coat, new by the feel of it. He had new black and white boots, white gloves on his hands, and something was obscuring some of his vision. Oh yeah, and he had blood all over him. He pushed himself up further, his hand hitting against an umbrella and tried to shake off the cobwebs.

Not far away from him was a grown man, hair stuck to his forehead in sweat as his jacket had been almost ripped to shred. He was panting and looked like he'd just run a marathon. He was looking at Jeff with the wild-eyed hesitancy that one gives an animal. Jeff groaned and tried to stumble up. "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened? I come across you beating the shit out of some drug dealer not to far from here, you look like a maniac, screaming and giggling like a lunatic, and then you punch me and I go flying about twenty feet! You don't remember any of that shit?"

Jeff held his head. "No… sorry?"

The man's fists came down as he just kinda looked at Jeff weirdly. After a few moments of an awkward stare down the man chuckled, pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Well the drug dealer ain't dead and he's at the hospital with the drugs on him. You alright? You look kinda shitty."

"I think I just had a bad hit of whatever that stuff was." Jeff was prepared for the judgment, for this vigilante to simply only care that he was a drugged up loser and haul him off to jail for using and for assault. Instead, he saw understanding pass through the man and he came over to sit down next to Jeff.

"Hate to break this to you, dude, but whatever you took, it wasn't your typical drug."

Jeff shrugged, "Didn't help anyway… I didn't know what it was, I just needed something. How do you know what it is?"

He leaned back on his hands and tried to shrug. "I don't, but I doubt you had almost entirely white eyes, before you took it."

Jeff blinked before reaching up to touch his face. "I don't feel different…"

"Well you are, and I'm betting that the white eyes mean whatever you did is permanent. Welcome to the super powers club, it sucks." He gave him a sidelong gaze that Jeff couldn't bring himself to meet. "I'm Dean."

"Jeff." He said before shivers racked through his body once more. He needed another hit or he was going to go through a painful withdraw and seeing as how he'd thrown an indestructible superhero twenty feet, he didn't know what he'd do if he was in that level of pain.

Dean seemed to notice and elect not to say anything. "So, you don't remember anything after you took the hit? That doesn't breed good news. Take it from the guy who got experimented on."

Jeff tried to take his mind off the crave his body sought and tried to focus on the conversation. "You think you know about this? If I'm the first one to show all these attributes and go crazy… how the hell would you know what's going on?" Jeff didn't mean to sound harsh, but he wasn't having a good night, and it was taking everything not to lash out at something.

"Call it intuition. Here we can test some shit. Better for you to know rather than accidentally kill someone." He leaned forward. "Here, punch me."

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Because you'll find out if you're super strong all the time, or just when you're all… spooky. Don't worry, I'm indestructible."

Jeff turned and punched Dean in the shoulder, as hard as he could, but Dean just stared down at his arm like nothing happened.

"Well that answers that question. Now, try to teleport."

"Teleport?"

Dean grinned and nodded, "You were jumping out of shadows left and right my man, if I wasn't trying to beat you up, I'd call it awesome."

Jeff closed his eyes and imagined himself further down the alley, but when nothing happened he sighed. "So, great. I have super powers when I'm a fucking psycho," Like my brother, his mind supplied, "and when I'm like this, I'm still just a shivering junky. How do I even control or go into that side of me? What if it pops up again when I don't want it to?"

Jeff was slowly losing his mind. The craving in his body was driving him up a wall and with these new powers, as much as he wanted a hit, he didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Far as I can tell, you lost control because of all the shit in your system. You flush it out, you get some clarity, and then you can work on controlling this other side of you."

Jeff had heard that he should get clean before. Dozens of times from people who said they cared, but couldn't prove to him that he could do it. Not with the memories he face everyday. They didn't get it. "You don't understand. I need that… I can't live without it and function, not with all the shit that went down in my life." He was strong in his mind when he wasn't feeling the pain and need wrack his body, but his body was weak and his mind was so very tired.

He pulled at his hair, only for Dean to smack his hands away. "Bullshit. We all go through tough breaks. Sometimes we lose people. Sometimes life gets a little messy, but if you can't face it and live with yourself and let it drive you, then that shit wins."

Jeff flinched like he'd been slapped. He knew Dean was right, that he had to get this shit under control, now even more so if he didn't want another rampage on his hands. He sunk lower and placed his face in his hands. "I… I don't know if I can."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and it squeezed gently. "I'll be sticking right here until you detox. In the mean time, you can tell me about yourself Jeff. We can try to take your mind off of everything. What do you want to do, like, job wise?"

"Um, well," Jeff could do this, just put words together, "I haven't done it in a while, but I used to like to paint and stuff. Art was a big passion."

"Maybe you can get some money and open an art gallery or something. Could be cool. I know Renee used to love those types of places."

And with that, Jeff let the shivers come. He tried to listen to Dean tell all about his wife whom had died, proving to Jeff that if anyone understood what he was going through it was Dean, and he was using it to drive him to make the world a better place. Jeff hoped he could live up to that and maybe control whatever this other side of him was. And as sweat continued to poor down his face, speaking as much as he was able to tell Dean about himself, dawn broke over the walls of the buildings they were between. Soon enough, Dean grabbed Jeff as if he weighed nothing, which he probably did at this point, and began to haul him back to his bar.

Dean got them there in record time and sat Jeff on a stool, before filling up a glass with water and setting it in front of him. "You don't leave here until you're completely detoxed. Then, we get you into a sobriety program, I loan you some money for an art gallery opening, and in exchange, you learn to use your powers by training with me."

Jeff downed the water, thinking of this offer, it was too good to be true. "What do you get out of this? Other than me paying you back, probably with interest."

He watched the other man chuckle, downing his own water. "No interest, just pay me back what I put in. Mick left me everything, so I'm decently set that I can do stuff like this. As for what I get out of it," he threw his hands up and grinned, "you caught me. I had an idea. You hear about those girls that just cropped up. One shoots lightning, one shoots fire? Well, I'm thinking of throwing a team together. After seeing what you can do, I think you'd be an asset, if you can win the fight inside yourself and gain clarity. Plus, if you get trained to control yourself, you at least won't hurt anyone, but you got the look of someone who would make a good hero."

Jeff bit his lip, "You're entirely too trusting. You don't know me."

"True, but I was where you are. Looking at a scruffy bar owner who offered something too good to be true. I took it, and now I'm paying it forward. You in or not?"

It was then that Jeff felt a buzzing in his head and a presence begging him to say yes. He shuddered. The other presence felt cold, almost like it was a wisp of smoke. But, he was inclined to agree with it; what did he have to lose? "Alright. Clarity… I can give that a try."

Dean grinned and poured him a second water. "Training starts tomorrow, provided you go to the sobriety meeting today and can stay clean. You mess up and I have to fight the other guy again, we are going to have an unpleasant talk that you will not enjoy. You're done with that shit, and I'll make sure you stay done with it. Clear?" When he saw Jeff agree, he pursed his lips. "Maybe get some color contacts first cause the white eyes are starting to freak me out a bit."

Jeff nodded, finally feeling the stirring of something inside his gut. He almost didn't remember what it felt like to have something to aim for other than your next high. He forgot how it felt to hope. He knew he'd have a long road ahead. Sobriety and controlling newfound powers at the same time would have seemed almost impossible, just this morning, but now he had something of a support system where he didn't have to rely on just himself. He had a team, the possibility of a family again, and he'd be damned if he let himself screw it up again. He felt the cold presence in his mind hum an approval before it faded back to just him. Seemed the other guy was ready to get started. Jeff just hoped he was as well.


End file.
